


Destiny and Other Nonsense

by kenzz_95



Series: Trektober 2020 [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Discussions of all that traumatic stuff that happened in ST2009, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of Prime Spirk, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenzz_95/pseuds/kenzz_95
Summary: Nobody knows quite how to process the events of the so-called "Narada Incident", but Jim is dealing with that on top of everything he learned from a mind meld from Prime Spock on Delta Vega, which he has been outright banned from discussing with anyone. Unable to deal with the implications of destiny all on his own, nevermind the fact that apparently in that other universe he had been married to Spock of all people, Jim turns to Bones for advice, because Bones is the one this version of Jim has wanted all along.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Series: Trektober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948633
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86
Collections: Trektober 2020





	Destiny and Other Nonsense

**Author's Note:**

> Trektober day 2: Academy Era
> 
> I just got done writing a big Academy era fic so this one fits the timeline, technically, but in a different way than a lot of Academy era fics I've seen. It's set between the end of the main events of Star Trek 2009 and that ending scene where Jim gets to keep his promotion. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The time after what was being dubbed the “Narada Incident” was an incredibly stressful one for one James T Kirk, to put it mildly. First he had to captain a ship without a warp core, limping its way back to earth with its  _ actual _ captain still in sick bay under the watchful eye of his own best friend. But nothing really got easier when the Enterprise returned to earth. People were calling him a Federation hero, nevermind the fact that what they had done was the very definition of a group effort. Pike, who had been transferred to Starfleet Medical for what Bones assured him would be a lengthy but ultimately nearly full rehab, told Jim that was just part of the game. When you’re captain, everyone wants to give you all the credit, both the good and the bad, regardless of who was actually involved. But it wasn’t just media attention that awaited him back on earth. It was seemingly endless debriefings with Starfleet command, interspersed with funerals, God, so many funerals. The loss of Academy cadets was unprecedented, and while there were many who survived the destruction of the ships that arrived at Vulcan before the Enterprise, there were many who didn’t. And then there was Vulcan itself. The loss was incalculable. An entire planet, a rich culture, and so many people who didn’t manage to evacuate on time, all gone in an instant. It seemed like nobody could quite wrap their heads around the magnitude of what had happened. Jim knew he certainly couldn’t. It almost seemed as though the loss of their fellow cadets was felt more strongly on campus, purely because people actually  _ understood _ that loss. What had happened to Vulcan was unfathomable and horrific on a scale that the human mind had difficulty comprehending. At least, that’s what Bones always said. Jim supposed it made sense, in a way. All he really knew, personally, is that every time anyone brought it up, he felt like throwing up. Bones, who sometimes brought what he learned on his psych rotations out, had said that everyone on the Enterprise, hell, everyone in the Federation to an extent, was experiencing the event as a shared trauma, and that took time to process. Which, fine, but they weren’t given much by the way of time.

After a few weeks of constant debriefings and funerals and visiting Pike in the hospital and trying to sleep with mixed results, classes as the Academy started up again. Jim was fully convinced it was too soon, but they said they couldn’t remain on hold forever and nobody actually cared about his opinion anyways. And the dissonance between being made captain of the flagship and saving the Federation with a crew of mostly cadets and then suddenly being forced to return to too empty classrooms as a final year cadet as if nothing had happened...it didn’t sit well with Jim. Hell, from what he could gather it didn’t sit well with anyone. Every single surviving cadet had been through a hell of a lot during the so-called Narada Incident, and many of the fourth year cadets had assumed command positions in the absence of full crew compliments. Nobody wanted to be back in the classroom, and everyone was traumatized as hell. It was a troublesome combination.

In one class, the instructor had pulled up a star chart of the local systems, a star chart that had Vulcan labeled clearly right near the center of the diagram, and the classroom had gone so still and quiet that all Jim could hear was the stunned breathing of 12 fourth year cadets and an instructor. The silence had dragged on for several minutes before the instructor finally broke it to dismiss the class, despite the fact that the period had only just started. It seemed like nobody quite knew how to cope. Bones told him that they were seeing a spike in alcohol poisoning, injuries from fights, and other concerning injuries among surviving cadets. A lot of people didn’t have the coping mechanisms to handle all of this without self-destructing.

At one point Jim wouldn’t have either, but now he had a motivation to not drink too much or start fights. He had gradually come to find, over the course of his time at the Academy, that it was never worth the feeling that accompanied Bones and Pike being disappointed in him, as they always were. And now he had something new worth fighting for, too. There was talk of graduating cadets at a higher rank than they normally did this year, because of the significant losses Starfleet had suffered at Vulcan. They were even talking about upholding field promotions. Of course, Jim knew they wouldn’t uphold  _ his _ , despite his greatest hopes he wouldn’t even dare speak aloud, but then again he didn’t really know who would get the Enterprise now. There was talk about Pike getting a promotion, and everyone knew admirals didn’t fly. Spock would probably be next in line, but Spock had claimed on multiple occasions in the brief time before he left earth to go scout for suitable planets on which to resettle the Vulcan refugees, that he had absolutely no desire to be captain, now or ever. He would serve as first officer, but anything that took him away from his science officer duties was something he wasn’t interested in. So that left the Enterprise with...well, probably someone Jim didn’t know. But he hoped there was a position on that ship for him. He may not have been her captain for very long, but something about it had just felt so right and he knew, deep in his bones, that he would take command of that ship again. 

But then again maybe he knew that now. Which led Jim to his other problem. He wasn’t sure if it was his biggest one, he was pretty much alone in this one which made it more difficult to deal with. Old Spock had shown him a lot during that mind meld on Delta Vega, but it had all promptly been strictly classified. Spock - that is to say, young Spock - knew about most of it, and Jim had included it in his report to the admiralty upon their return to earth, but he had been banned from discussing it again with anyone else. He was expected to just continue living his life as though he hadn’t seen the future of someone who was him but at the same time not quite him. If he was being honest with himself, it was sort of making him insane. He hadn’t wanted to know any of that, and every part of it made him deeply uncomfortable.

But there was one part of what Old Spock had shown him that was really getting to him. Old Spock had pretty much shown Jim a highlight reel of all the important moments shared between Old Spock and Jim’s...alternate universe counterpart? That was still weird to think about. But Old Spock had obviously revealed a bit more than he had intended, including some very intimate moments between Old Spock and alternate universe Jim. Apparently in another universe, he and Spock had been  _ married _ , which Jim was having a real hard time with. Did this mean he was fated to fall in love with Spock? Jim’s feelings towards the Vulcan had warmed as they made their way back to earth, sure, but the feelings weren’t the slightest bit romantic or sexual in nature. No, he certainly was not in love with Spock. And Jim knew this because he realized that he did actually know what being in love felt like because he had been in love with Bones for at least two years now. And sure there were always going to be some barriers to  _ that _ working, namely the fact that Bones both deserved and could do significantly better than his best friend, but now Jim had to worry if they had  _ destiny _ working against them as well. And it was kind of causing him to freak the hell out.

For a while, Jim was good. He did exactly what was expected of him. He went to class, he took his damn midterms - and aced them all, thank you very much - kept his mouth shut, and tried to avoid thinking about pesky things like incalculable losses and diverging timelines and destiny and alternate realities. He hoped that eventually Old Spock’s damn memories would stop swimming around his brain, but it wasn’t fucking working. And it was making him all kinds of insane. The biggest problem with all of this, Jim decided one day while not paying attention during a lecture, was that Bones was basically Jim’s brain filter at this point. For a lot of reasons Jim wasn’t the best at processing his own feelings and experiences, and for the past nearly three years ago he had been using Bones as some sort of human emotional processor. He could tell Bones things, and just the conversation would help Jim put his feelings into place and even begin to process them in something that approached a healthy way. But with this he was directly prohibited from telling Bones, and sure he tried to think of what Bones would tell him, but a lot of times it wasn’t even what Bones said during those conversations, it was just that he was a good listener and knew how to ask Jim the right questions to start pulling back the layers of avoidance he had sealed his emotions in. Jim couldn’t figure out how to replicate that on his own, and yeah okay maybe Uhura had been right that one time she had accused him and Bones of being “weirdly codependent” but he didn’t know what he was going to do about that now, let alone if he actually wanted to do anything about it if he could. He was pretty sure he didn’t.

Which is how Jim got to where he was now, which was just a month shy of graduation and seriously considering fucking everything up for himself because his old coping mechanisms had been his coping mechanisms for a reason. Sure, they weren’t good for him, Bones had helped him understand that, and they did nothing but chase the feelings away temporarily, but Starfleet had deprived him of pretty much the only healthy coping mechanism he had and the longer he just tried to ignore everything he had learned from Old Spock, the more he felt like he was going crazy from it. So he was left with a decision: either risk a court martial but keep his sanity, or do something stupid, get his ass kicked right out of the Academy, and still go insane thinking about all this anyways. He chose the first option, a choice he was actually somewhat proud of himself for. The fact was that his instinct was still to avoid emotional conversations like the plague, even with Bones, and this one was going to be rough. But he knew what was best for him and actually acted accordingly. Bones was going to be proud of him for this eventually, he figured.

“Bones! Get dressed! We’re going out,” Jim proclaimed as he barged into their shared dorm room to find his friend sitting on the couch with a PADD in his hands. Jim was going to do this now, and he was going to do it before he lost his nerve.

Bones quirked an eyebrow at him, a charming little habit in Jim’s opinion, and simply said,

“It’s a Tuesday.”

“Thank you, computer. I’m aware. Get changed. We’re going on a hike.”

“A hike? It’s nearly dark.”

“I know, that’s the point. Less people around.”

Bones looked at him for a few moments, studying him, then said, “Look, if this is some elaborate plan for you to kill me, can you just do it here and save us both the trouble?”

Jim decided not to dignify that with a response. He was probably coming at this from the wrong angle. He knew his friend wasn’t usually keen on going out on weeknights, not with the clinic hours he worked. Jim sighed, running his fingers through his already messed up hair,

“I just need to get out of San Francisco, Bones. And I need you to come with me.”

“You okay, kid?” Bones asked and dammit maybe this wasn’t working either. There were some downsides to Bones being able to read him so easily.

“I will be,” Jim promised, hoping the message came through enough for his friend. And it must have, because Bones started pulling on his shoes with a sigh,

“If you fall off a cliff in the dark, I’m leaving you there, ya here?”

They didn’t go far, and they didn’t hike long. Just out to this cliff outside the city that overlooked the ocean where Jim liked to go and think sometimes. It was beautiful, really, and Jim had often contemplated bringing Bones here for a different uncomfortable conversation. But that would have to wait, this was far more important.

“Not much of a hike, kid,” Bones said, sinking down to sit on a flat rock near the edge of the cliff, only half an hour after they had left Jim’s bike on the side of the road. Jim shrugged, but said nothing. It wasn’t the walk itself that he cared about, it was the solitude. But now that they had it he found himself losing his nerve. He could still bail out of this, he reminded himself. He hadn’t gotten himself backed into any emotional corners yet. At least he thought he hadn’t until after a few minutes of silence Bones abruptly broke it to ask,

“So, just outta curiosity how long am I gonna have to wait for you to work up the nerve to tell me whatever it is that you brought me up here to tell me?”

Jim opened his mouth to ask how the hell Bones had figured him out so easily before he remembered that duh, of course he had, it was  _ Bones _ . They knew each other like the back of their own hands at this point. Bones just arched that damn eyebrow at him and Jim almost began talking but then he remembered something.

“Give me you comms,” Jim requested, holding out his hand.

“Why?” Bones asked, but he pulled his communicator out of his pocket and placed it in Jim’s hands nonetheless.

Before his friend could stop him, Jim raised his arm and threw Bones’ communicator as hard as he could off the side of the cliff and out into the ocean. Bones was on his feet the second the device left Jim’s hand.

“What the fuck, Jim?” he growled, “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Jim promised but Bones’ expression did not soften,

“You damn well better. But you also better explain to me why you did that in the first place.”

“I had to make sure they weren’t listening. I left mine back at our room, I forgot about yours,” Jim explained and Bones’ angry features twisted into something softer but equally confusing as he put his hands on Jim’s shoulders and asked,

“Jim, are you on something? You better not lie to me.”

“No, I’m not  _ high! _ ” Jim exclaimed, somewhat offended by the accusation. He had never really been one for drugs, alcohol had always served him just fine, but after the incident during his second year with the Tellurite mushrooms he had sworn off all that shit for good. Bones knew this, had been there with him through the entirety of what had been the bad trip to end all bad trips.

“Well you’re acting erratic and paranoid as hell, so you better start explaining before I take you down to SFM for a full eval,” Bones threatened and Jim knew he’d do it, too. So much for not getting himself backed into an emotional corner. 

“Look, I need to tell you something, but if Starfleet finds out I told you about it I could get court martialed. We both could,” Jim explained and Bones’ expression shifted yet again. More hesitant. Guarded, almost.

“Not sure I really wanna know, then,” Bones said, and Jim was fairly sure he wasn’t being serious but that wasn’t good enough. Bones seemed to pick up on that, because he shook his head, “Kid, I snuck you onto a damn starship, I’m obviously not that concerned about a court martial. Spill.”

“It really is a miracle we didn’t get in more trouble for that.”

“Suppose that was our thanks for saving the Federation. Now quit your stalling.”

“Okay. So, you remember that really old Vulcan we ran into after we got back to earth? The one who knew me?”

“No?”

“Yeah, you do. You complained later about how you thought he was looking at you funny.”   


“Oh yeah,” Bones nodded, his eyes lighting up with recognition, “And then  _ you _ said you thought he was just into me or something. What about him?”

“That’s Spock,” Jim said, figuring he would just come out with it. Bones didn’t like preambles or bullshit much anyways.

“What do they have like three names on Vulcan? I really don’t know that many Vulcans, odd that I’d run into two with the same name. They related or something?”

“Or something,” Jim snorted, “But no, Bones, you’re not hearing me. That’s  _ Spock _ . He’s not related to the Spock we served with, he  _ is _ the Spock we served with.”

Bones didn’t respond right away, he just looked at Jim, obviously trying to read how serious he was in his eyes. He must have been able to tell that Jim wasn’t fucking with him, because when he spoke it was only to say,

“Explain.”

So Jim did. He told Bones everything he had disclosed in his debriefings, and his friend didn’t say a single word the entire time. Finally, when he had finished, Bones sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose,

“Damn time travel. Gives me a headache every time I think about it.”

Jim said nothing. He knew firsthand how much this was to process, and wanted to give the other man the time to wrap his head around this that Jim himself had not had.

“So, let me make sure I’m getting this right,” Bones continued after a few moments of silence, “The Spock you met is from a different timeline, and ours diverged from his when that Romulan ship came back.”   


“Yes.”   


“So the damn universe is broken.”   


“I suppose you could put it that way.”

“And alternate reality Spock showed you all this…”   


“Through a mind meld, yes,” Jim nodded.

“Is that it?” Bones asked.

“That’s what I told the admiralty,” Jim said, but he should’ve known Bones wouldn’t let him get away with an evasion that obvious.

“That’s not an answer and we both know it.”

“There were some details I deemed too extraneous to tell the admiralty.”

“Go on.”

“I was talking to our Spock about it...don’t give me that look, it’s his own damn alternate self and he put the pieces together on his own,” Jim said, because Bones was giving him a pointed look at the idea that he had told Spock, who he barely knew, over his own best friend. But it obviously hadn’t been like that, and Jim needed Bones to understand that. “Anyways, Spock told me he thinks that Old Spock did the mind meld wrong. He only did it to show me that what he was saying was true. But he sorta accidentally gave me the highlight reel of his entire relationship with alternate reality me.”

“And what definition of ‘relationship’ are you using right now?”

“We were married,” Jim admitted, figuring there was no use denying it, not when that was a significant part of what had been bothering him this whole time. “Spock and alternate reality me were married.”

“So when you say highlight reel, I would imagine that may’ve included some moments…” Bones started and Jim cut him off before he could finish,

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m trying to forget about those bits.”

“How long did this whole thing take, anyways?”

“It was pretty quick, I think. It wasn’t like he showed me some sorta movie or something, it was more like he implemented a memory chip into my brain. I didn’t watch it all happen, it was like suddenly his memories were just  _ there _ .”

“Right alongside yours?”

“Yes and no. They’re there, all right, but they feel like I’m remembering something that happened in a movie, not in my own life. So it’s not as confusing as it could’ve been. But there’s a lot there. Not everything, just the stuff Old Spock must’ve thought was important.”

“And the brass banned you from discussing this with anyone?”   


“It’s got a shiny red ‘top top secret’ label all over the file.”

“That ain’t healthy,” Bones shook his head, “Making you keep all that to yourself, after all you’ve been through, that ain’t healthy. I’m glad you told me.”

“It was making me insane, trying to figure out how to deal with this shit,” Jim admitted, “I mean I get told that everything in my life has always just been down to  _ destiny _ …”

“Okay, now you stop right there,” Bones cut him off, “Destiny is bullshit, and I don’t believe that for a second.”

“No, but Bones, you don’t understand. We were  _ all _ there. You and me and Spock and Uhura and Scotty and Sulu and Chekov and  _ everyone _ that was on the Enterprise with us, we were all on the Enterprise in the other timeline too. We were all there, doing the same fucking things, I don’t see how you can say it’s  _ not _ written.”

“Well for one that was just one mission. God only knows where we’re going after graduation, where we’re being reassigned and which field promotions they’re upholding and which they aren’t. The convergence of all those people could’ve just been a blip.”   


“You don’t really believe that,” Jim challenged, looking the other man dead in the eye. Bones didn’t waver under his gaze, he never did.   


“I’m saying it could just be a coincidence. Hell, you may recall you shouldn’t have even been on that ship in the first place, you were only there because  _ I _ snuck you on out of my own free will. I wasn’t being controlled by some invisible hand of destiny when I came back for you, Jim, I did that because I wanted to. And  _ when _ you make captain on a permanent basis, it will be because  _ you _ worked your ass off and you’re smart and good and deserve it, not because of some bullshit some alternate version of you did in a different reality.”

Jim sighed. God, sometimes he forgot just how well Bones knew him, that he knew  _ exactly _ what was bothering Jim about this situation before he even explained it. It was almost overwhelming, but in a good way. He pushed that aside, though, because this conversation wasn’t over.

“You said different reality. It’s an alternate timeline. There’s a difference.”

“And do you know, know for  _ sure _ , that what the older Spock showed you was what our reality was going to be like before the Narada came back? Do you know that that ship went back in time and not across dimensions?” Bones asked, the challenge evident in his voice. Jim did not, in fact, know that. He didn’t think anyone did, really. He also wasn’t sure it mattered. He said nothing, so Bones continued, “Regardless of if their universe was ever ours or not, it’s diverged. You’re free to live your own life, make your own decisions, and succeed and fail in a million ways that the you Old Spock knew would never have dreamed of. And let me assure you, Jim, if you just sit back and coast through everything, assuming you’ll end up as captain of the Enterprise regardless, the only thing you’ll end up as is washed out and left having to start over again. It’s on you to chase this, and when you get it, that’s on you too. Not him,  _ you _ .”

Jim still said nothing, taking it all in. Finally, he nodded. Somehow, just like it always did, what Bones was saying just made sense. It’s like the other man knew exactly how to talk to him, exactly what he needed to hear at all times. He didn’t know about the other him, hell he didn’t even know about future him, but he couldn’t fathom a reality in which he had anything better than what he had with Bones.

“Yeah?” Bones asked, squeezing Jim on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jim agreed, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding for months.

“So,” Bones sighed, leaning back and adopting a somewhat forced conversational tone, “You and Spock, huh? That one’ll take a bit of gettin’ used to, I admit. All that logic all the damn time, and the man’s got a superiority complex big enough to fill the damn Pacific.”

“I think you’re overreading that,” Jim shook his head, “Vulcans are just like that sometimes, I don’t think it’s malicious or anything. He’s a good officer.”

“Wow, how romantic,” Bones drawled and Jim shook his head again, more vehemently this time,

“I don’t feel that way about him.”

“Ya know, I know him and I got a bit...snippy with each other when we were out there and truth be told I’m just not sure how well our personalities mesh. That being said, the only version I really know of him is traumatized to all hell and he seems competent enough.”

“Okay? And you’re telling me this because…”

“I’m tell you this because I want you to know that just ‘cause he and I don’t get along all that well doesn’t...look, nobody wants their significant other and their best friend fightin’ all the time…”

“Bones!” Jim cut him off. The sentiment, while appreciated, was actually irritating as hell because that was quite literally the opposite of the problem here. “Did you miss the bit where I said I don’t feel that way about him? I can see us becoming friends, maybe even good friends, but that’s  _ it _ . In fact, half my problem with all of this is about not feeling that way about him! I don’t want to be destined to marry him someday or whatever the fuck.”   


“Destiny is bullshit,” Bones repeated, not touching any of the rest of what Jim had said.

“You’ve mentioned.” Somehow, Bones had gone to be dramatically helpful to the opposite in the space of only a few minutes. It was a bit frustrating.

“Why does the idea of you and him bother you so much anyways? It ain’t like you got anyone else in that way right now.”

Until that moment, Jim had failed to fully realize that this conversation was going to be intrinsically linked with another one he needed to have with Bones, but had been putting off. He suddenly regretted bringing this up in the first place.

“Oh my God,  _ who _ ?” Bones asked, obviously seeing something in Jim’s face that caused him to react more like a 12 year old gossip than a 31 year old doctor.

“I’m not seeing anyone. I would tell you if I was,” Jim said, deflecting, but not answering the question.

“So there’s someone you want then?” Bones guessed, and at this point Jim wasn’t sure if the other man was being deliberately obtuse or was really just that clueless about his feelings. “Someone who you want enough that the idea of being destined to someone else is killing you. Jim,  _ who _ ?”

Jim sort of wanted to scream, but he was not answering that question, he was  _ not _ ,

“You.”

At first, Bones said nothing and Jim regretted that little moment of impulsivity more than anything else in the world. Then, his friend blinked slowly, once, twice, three times, then nodded,

“Okay, sure.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘okay, sure’?”

The problem was that Jim had been pretty confident that he had thought of all the possible ways Bones could respond to his admission of his feelings. The most likely situation, he had guessed, was that Bones would respectfully turn him down, it would be a bit awkward for a few days, and then they’d ignore it and move on. The worst case scenario was that it would fuck things up forever, but he trusted Bones more than that. And then there was the best case, where Bones told him that he was in love with him too and then bent him over the nearest flat surface. He wasn’t really sure where “okay, sure” fit into any of those scenarios.

“‘Suppose that makes a bit of sense,” Bones answered, but not really, “After all, we’ve probably been closer to dating than friends for a while, when ya think about it.”

Jim was lost, and Bones was an enigma of a man. This was going...well, Jim really didn’t know how this was going, and that was sort of the problem, wasn’t it?

“Bones, when I say I want you I don’t just mean, ya know, sexually. Although that’s certainly part of it. But, man, I’ve been in love with you since second year.”

“Okay, well, I gathered that. Not the since second year bit, but, well, I assumed you weren’t just talking about sex there.”

Jim looked at Bones’ eyes, trying to decipher what was there, but he really did seem as casual as he sounded. Since when was Bones this chill about  _ anything _ ? It was almost unnerving.

“So what do you  _ want _ ? Do you feel the same way or not? Why’re you being so cryptic?”

Finally, that seemed to break through to Bones a little. The other man sighed deeply,

“Look, Jim, I’m not gonna lie to you and say I’ve never thought about it. Of course I’ve thought about it. Not as much as you probably have, but…” Bones heaved another sigh. Jim wasn’t sure how he had any breath left in his lungs. “Jim, I love you, more than I’ve loved anyone else. The exact nature of that feeling, how much of it is platonic and how much of it is the more romantic sort, well, it’s a bit blended together for me. I think, maybe, that part of the reason I never let myself consider it much was that I figured it was an impossibility. You always say you don’t do love or dating. But, like I said, I think we crossed the bounds of a normal friendship a long time ago. If you wanna be my boyfriend, I’m more than willing to give it a shot.”

Now it was Jim’s turn to silently slow blink at Bones. He didn’t know what to think. Bones wasn’t as invested in this as Jim was, but he still wanted to see where they would go as more than friends. The only question, really, was if Jim would be able to handle it if Bones decided his love was more the platonic sort.

“And if you decide it’s not what you want?” Jim asked, because he was laying himself bare tonight and he might as fucking well.

“If I decide it’s not what I want, I’m still your best friend. Always,” Bones promised him, holding his gaze, “But, frankly, I don’t see that as the most likely outcome. I halfway fell in love with you as your best friend and entirely convinced you would never consider a real relationship with  _ anyone _ . The way I see it, it’s probably more of a matter of when not if for me.”

“So you just need time?” Jim guessed, trying to interpret this particular version of Bones that he definitely wasn’t used to dealing with. He was used to Bones shooting real straight, but then again maybe he still was and it was Jim that was just having a difficult time processing what he was saying.

“Sure, but in my experience most people go into relationships with things they still need to figure out. That’s actually the entire point of dating, if you think about. If you want it and I, well, I’m pretty sure I want it too, then there’s no reason not to try it.”

Bones had a point, really, and Jim felt like his insides were  _ sparkling _ . Sure, it wasn’t Bones saying “I’ve been in love with you since the moment I threw up on you on that damn shuttle”, but “I think I’m falling in love with you, too, let’s figure it out together” was pretty damn good too. Jim found he couldn’t argue with it. He wanted to kiss Bones, see if that was allowed at whatever stage it was they were in, but he wasn’t done talking about the original reason he had brought his friend - boyfriend? - up here to begin with.

“And if I’m fated to fall in love with Spock?” Jim asked and Bones just rolled his eyes,

“Fated, my ass. You aren’t  _ fated _ to fall in love with anyone, you or anyone else for that matter. Jim, listen. The man that Old Spock was married to may have come out of the womb genetically identical to you, but he’s not  _ you _ . He’s not my Jim Kirk. You’re more than just your damn chromosomes, kid. The Jim I love is a sum of his experiences and choices and desires and that ain’t the same as the one that the other Spock loved. Really, that other Jim is probably closer to being your twin or maybe even your brother than he is to being  _ you _ . I don’t give a damn how many universes there are, how many men there are named Jim Kirk who share your genetic blueprint, as far as I’m concerned  _ you _ are the only Jim Kirk that matters. Your life is yours to do what you want with. You can fall in love with who you want, do what you want, pursue what you want. Fate can get fucked.”

Pretty much every slot in Jim’s mental top ten list of nice things people had done or said to him in his life had been occupied by Bones since they met, but he was pretty sure that had just gone to the top of the list. He opened his mouth to say that, but for what Bones would probably joke was the first time in his life, no words came to him. After all, how the hell was he supposed to follow  _ that _ up? So instead Jim splayed his hand out on Bones’ cheek, searching the older man’s eyes for permission, and when he saw the sparkle in those hazel eyes, he kissed him. He kissed Bones. He was kissing Bones. And Bones was kissing him back, just as warm and soft and gentle as he had ever imagined. Bones, Jim realized, was in love with him too. He could feel it on his lips, as he used his tongue to silently say “I love you” to Jim, it was there. It was unlike anything else Jim had ever experienced. Bones may not be quite ready to say it yet, but it was there. And that was good enough. Hell, it couldn’t have been much better. And, as Bones pulled him closer on that rock overlooking the bay, the only thought Jim could spare for his alternate universe self was to feel bad for the other Jim, for never having had Bones like this. He had missed out, that was for damn sure. Maybe Jim’s universe was the broken one, but with Bones’ lips on his, it felt like the other universe was the imperfect one. This was how he was meant to be.

  
  



End file.
